The Bevir Chronicles, Chapter One
by PhoenixTen
Summary: The life of a republic commando with a particularly tragic past --contains explicit violent and sexual content--


Kamino

Tipoca City

Military Quarter

Clone Barracks

The unending rain lashed the catwalks and floating platforms of the city, the wind whipping any stray debris off and away into churning sea below. The clones unlucky enough to be outside today huddled against each other for stability against the storm as it tried to throw them down. Training schedules did not bend because of foul weather, in fact, it was considered a plus to have adverse conditions adding a random factor. One squad in particular looked particularly grim as they struggled to reach the barracks, walking against the wind and lashing rain, their light grey armour giving the storm more bulk to claw at.

Finally inside, the commandos of Umaan squad pulled off their helmets, the four young men wearily taking inventory of each other as they did after every training session. Bevir, the squad demolitions expert, looked the most haggard. Of course, that could have been simply from his already reserved nature already making him seem eternally down. This three squadmates Ryne, Sh'ehn, and Quirk, looked almost as tired, though.

Ryne, the one everyone turned to for medical and heavy weapons solutions as well as a good time, draped an arm over Bevir's shoulders and ruffled his hair.

"Come on, Bevir, you'll feel better after a hot shower," he said, smiling tiredly. They all wanted the same thing after training, and usually in the same order: a steaming hot shower, food, and a warm bunk.

Bevir nodded, managing to smile back as they four ambled off.

In the 'freshers, Bevir stayed longer than the rest of his brothers, having convinced them to pick out a table and get started in his absence. The hot water steamed deliciously, relaxing his muscles and releasing the tension of the day's events from his mind. He stood unmoving for a few minutes with his eyes closed, just letting the water pour down his body, his thoughts melting away with the rivulets of water and soap and leaving him as blank as a perfect snowscape.

A noise behind him made Bevir turn. Another squad had walked in to the shared showers. Bevir tried to ignore them. They were one of several squads who seemed closer than brothers normally were. In fact, they were close enough to be disturbing. They were always touching, sometimes kissing each other and making jokes that caused Bevir's mind to reel.

The four commandos were smiling and laughing as they stripped and Bevir noticed that they all had the same mark on the small of their backs. It looked almost like a brand burned into them shaped like a winged sphere. Odd choice. But then again, the boys themselves were a little weird.

Bevir was just turning back to finish cleaning up when the other squad noticed him. One of the boys, snickered at something another said. He walked up to the edge of the shower stall and leaned against it.

"Hey, Bevir, what're you doing in here all alone?"

Bevir didn't answer, but turned off the water and brushed past as he reached for towel. The others stopped him.

"He asked you a question, Spiker," one of them said, using the Basic translation of his name.

"I…got distracted. My squad's waiting for me."

"I didn't see them anywhere," the first said, but not at Bevir.

Suddenly flooded with dread, Bevir tried to back away, but was blocked off from his only remaining escape route. The only direction he could now go was back into the showers.

"Back off," Bevir growled, his generally quiet nature evaporating as his fight or flight instincts kicked in.

"Ooh, he's got all feisty," one hissed.

Bevir glanced past them at his armour plates, still stacked in the corner, his helmet on top. If only he could reach it, he could call his brothers for backup.

The branded commandos advanced, pushing Bevir back into the stall until his back was pressed against the cold tile. They still kept coming, a hungry, feral look shared by all four of his attackers.

One glanced at what must have been the squad sergeant as if seeking approval. The sergeant nodded and the other flashed forward, pinning Bevir to the wall hard enough to make him squeak with surprise and pain. The others moved in like a pack of hungry kath hounds. Their hands touched him all over, making Bevir squirm as he desperately fought for escape. He was no match for four young men his own age, though, and only succeeded in tiring himself, trying to cry out for help several times, but every time, one of the four would cover his mouth and nose, threatening to suffocate him.

The leader, his hands on Bevir's hips, pressed close and bit down hard on Bevir's shoulder, drawing blood. Bevir's scream was muffled by a hand clapped over his mouth and another squeezing his throat. Then the biting turned to a gentle sucking, lapping up Bevir's blood as it beaded on his skin, making his screaming turn to a moan.

Slowly, Bevir's struggled ended, his body seeming to move of its own accord as his desire to flee was overtaken and defeated by the sensations the four other men were making him feel.

One of them leaned in and nibbled his ear, whispering, "Little Spiker's coming around now, eh? Liking it? Yes…"

Bevir felt his breathing take on an almost panting air in response to the continuous whispering that had been added to the groping and touching. Suddenly, Bevir found himself thrown to the ground, catching himself on his hands, but he couldn't get up because he was immediately pinned again. A flash of colour caught his eye and he saw a rivulet of blood snake down his arm, but he was soon distracted by the feel of one of the four releasing him and fumbling around behind him.

He was instantly scared again, the sensual delight of before totally lost in the renewed power of his need for escape. He tried to struggle, but he was too well pinned, even with half of the eight hands on his body doing other things than holding him down. He bucked, but this only caused a sickly delighted snicker to work its way through his assaulters.

"He's not ready yet," the one to his left hissed.

"We don't want to hurt him," the one on the right agreed.

The Sergeant, the one behind him, grunted and gripped Bevir's hip with on hand, the other brushing across his backside and stopping over his anus, one finger pressed against the opening. Inhaling sharply as the finger penetrated him, Bevir squeezed his eyes shut, willing it all to stop. The finger pulled out, then pushed back in, repeating over and over before it became two, Bevir still struggling and trying to cry out even though his body was starting to say yes to what was happening to him. Eventually, it stopped, the hand coming away. But it wasn't over.

By now, too, Bevir's body had all but taken over, his thoughts muddied by the confused yes-no reaction he was feeling: his body definitely screamed for it to continue, his member now hard, his mind reeling, desperately crying no.

Then something else penetrated him, guided by the hand from shortly before, before it grabbed hold of his other hip as leverage. The Sergeant pushed inside him slowly, grunting once he was inside as far as he could go.

Finally getting his mind under control for a moment, Bevir arched his back, pulling away from the hand over his mouth just enough that he could bite down, hard. His target screamed, lashing at Bevir with his other hand, striking his temple hard enough he saw stars. He dropped, stunned, to his elbows, but was held up, stopped from falling to the wet floor. He shook his head, trying to clear the black speckles at the edge of his vision as the squad leader continued pumping inside him.

"Stop," he gasped, "please, stop."

His attackers laughed. They all sounded demented, possessed by some evil spirit of myth. Instead of stopping, the one raping him intensified his motions, making Bevir cry out. His attackers laughed again, one reaching down and stroking Bevir's rock-hard member. Bevir moaned, his body starting to overpower his conscious mind again.

The pain in his backside continued to worsen as his attackers held him while their leader kept on raping him, thrusting harder and faster, his rhythm becoming erratic. The man groaned loudly as he peaked, forcing himself deeper into Bevir than he had managed until then, the pain becoming even more and the man ejaculated within him, making Bevir feel as if something might burst inside him.

Pulling out, his attacker smacked Bevir across his backside as he took over for one of the others pinning him down. The next one was just starting his second thrust when familiar voices sounded outside the showers.

Bevir's squad had come back for him. He tried to cry out to them, but he was struck in the head again, cutting him off as his head began spinning, blood pouring from a new wound. The four commandos vanished, leaving Bevir dizzy and only semi-conscious on the floor.

His squadmates appeared and rushed to his side as they saw him bruised and bleeding on the floor. They were impossibly gentle as the three lifted him carefully, supporting his weight on their shoulders. His head fell back on one of his brother's shoulders, unable to hold it up from how dizzy he was. His brothers were full of questions, but their words failed to make any sense to him.

One of them shined a bright light in his eyes and started shouting something, but Bevir didn't understand it, instead giving in to the darkness that had been creeping deeper into his vision, dropping into unconsciousness.

When Bevir woke up, he was in the medcentre, the worried faces of his brothers surrounding him. Then Bevir remembered why he was there and he bolted upright in the bed. Ryne pushed him back down.

"You need your rest, Bev'ika. You've been through a lot."

Bevir blinked, lying back down. "How…?"

"The med droid told us. There isn't much that can be hidden from them."

Sh'ehn, his sergeant, patted his hand. "Once you're rested, vod, we need you to tell us everything you can about who attacked you. They can't be punished unless we can identify them."

Bevir opened his mouth to speak, but his brothers shushed him.

"Only once you've rested," Sh'ehn whispered.

Bevir nodded, still too heavily drugged to be in turmoil over recent events. His brothers, as he was pleased to find, stayed with him as he drifted off to sleep and, later, would continue to do their best to aid him as he worked his way down the rocky road of dealing with having been raped by other clones.

All that mattered to him was that, once they were caught, his attackers would be punished so severely that the entire squad became almost timid when dealing with people outside their squad, scared of what would happen should anyone else ever turn them in for their cruel pleasures.


End file.
